


Third Wheel

by hellbela



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Oneshot, Unrequited John/Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellbela/pseuds/hellbela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock blinked back the tears as he stood at the altar with John.</p>
<p>A/N: Okay, I edited it. I think it should be better now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Wheel

Sherlock blinked back the tears as he stood at the altar with John.

It was a small thing, really, just a simple ceremony, reception and dance in a church right outside of town. John called it "quaint"; Sherlock disagreed. He would have invited less people.

Though he supposed he had to admit that the country breeze was rather refreshing.

He only hoped it would ease his nerves.

Shooting him a shy smile as the priest rambled on _(dull)_ , John quickly glanced down at his tuxedo before again meeting Sherlock's gaze, a silent question. Sherlock gave a sharp nod, breaking the eye contact to sweep his eyes across the doctor's body, giving him a once-over.

_Tuxedo, rented, last used by a ginger, judging by the copper hair just under the collar. Faint sweat stains under the arms from_ several _previous grooms, otherwise clean._

_Recently ironed, though slight wrinkles from John nervously smoothing down his tuxedo_ (force of habit? _Sherlock wasn't sure; normally John had something to do with his hands). A dab of concealer over a hickey on his neck; Sherlock smirked._

_Blue eyes sparkling as they slid past Sherlock, locking onto those of the beautiful bride._

The crowd _oohed_ and _ahhed,_ and Sherlock reluctantly turned from his best friend.

As always, Mary looked perfect, but now, as she stood in the doorway of the church, greeting relatives and friends with a bashful wave, she seemed to radiate beauty, almost palpable in the morning light. Gliding down the aisle, her veil fluttered in the air behind her as her features lit up in a dazzling smile. With her cream dress gracing her delicate figure and lovely white flowers adorning her hair, looking absolutely gorgeous, Sherlock chanced a glance at John to find his face split into the biggest smile he had ever seen him wearing, looking happier than Sherlock could have ever made him.

Mary was too good for John.

And Sherlock would never be good enough.

Locked away in the basement of his mind palace, among memories of a smug Mycroft and a dark haired teen getting pushed into the snow, Sherlock had stored the knowledge that he and John could never be. But it was only now that the realization truly struck.

Heads in the fridge. A perpetual lack of milk. Playing the violin at 4 AM; forcing John to practically spoon feed him his meals, put a ban on cases until Sherlock got some rest. He knew he was a terrible flatmate; how could he ever think he would make a good partner?

_Delusions._

_Sentiment._

John would never even give him a second thought.

_"Excuse_ _me,_ sir?"

Sherlock was abruptly awoken from his thoughts by an irritated priest. He felt his cheeks warm; he didn't need to look up to know that everyone was staring at him.

"The _rings,_ sir."

"Oh! Um. Yes. The rings." He fumbled in his pocket, and locating the rings, slid the wedding bands into John's palm. John caught Sherlock's hand as he started to withdraw; ignoring their audience, he met Sherlock's eyes, and Sherlock found it hard to look away.

Too soon, the moment passed, and their hands fell apart.

Sherlock blinked back the tears as he stood at the altar with John, but they persisted, and he subtly wiped at his eyes as John pulled Mary into a passionate kiss. Today was John Watson's wedding, and Sherlock was his best man.


End file.
